Reconciliation
by Lucea
Summary: Virginia's death causes Raine to confront some feelings she's been carrying with her for a long time. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: **_Tales of Symphonia_ and its characters are copyright Namco Ltd. This work is not for profit.

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The world is dark and quiet. Countless stars hang delicately above, somewhere far off in the deepness of the night. The silence is broken only by the faint hum of engines as a pair of Rheairds streak across the sky. Far below, the wind drags night-dark waves across the surface of the ocean.

The news came suddenly, out of the blue, and for a long moment they hadn't known what to do. Go, or not? They hardly know her; she doesn't know them. She is a distant memory or else not remembered at all. But despite all of that, it had never really been a question. They put aside what they'd been doing, packed a few necessities, and set out to borrow the Rheairds they now ride to go and see their mother on her deathbed.

It is near midnight when they arrive, something of a miracle they've managed to find Exire at all in the darkness. They land nearby, and after one quiet, emotion-laden glance at one another, he takes her hand encouragingly and they make the short walk to the building she calls home. Light filters faintly through the window and the cracks around the door. Raine places her hand on the door handle, not quite willing to open it just yet. She closes her eyes, taking one slow breath, and just before she begins to turn the handle, she hears the voice floating out the window.

"My... my children... Jean- Genis..." The voice seems to fade out, and Raine closes her eyes again, wondering and finding that the wondering hurts. "...Raine... Raine, my daughter... Raine..." The voice fades out again, and this time another voice, stronger, but gentle, replies.

"Yes?"

"Please, tell... 'I love you...'"

"I will."

There is silence again, broken only by Genis's quiet intake of breath, and Raine finds herself gazing at her hand on the door handle until it turns beneath her grasp. She looks up, and she sees the expression that settles on the elder's face after surprise has finished flitting across it at seeing her, seeing them, standing there.

And she knows.

She isn't sure how she should feel about missing her mother's final moments. One part of her, the part that is bitter and broken and hurting, is glad that she didn't have to be there. It would've hurt too much to see her mother bid farewell to the doll she cradled instead of the daughter who sat by her bedside. Things are better this way.

But the other part of her, the part that is understanding and hurting and loving and hoping, wonders if maybe, just maybe, Virginia had stumbled over his name (_Gen__- __Genis_) and not given both names of her supposedly unborn child (_Jean__- __Genis_), and she hadn't been able to tell the doll that was right there with her "I love you" because she hadn't been wanting to say it to the doll at all, but to the flesh-and-blood daughter who stood painfully outside her door.

Whichever way it is, she'll never know. If she had been there, she might have, would have, but there is no way of knowing now.

There is not enough land in Exire for a graveyard, so they bury her as their custom directs: wrapping her body in cloth weighted with stones, lowering it down to the waves and watching it sink into the deep until there is only blue water to be seen below them. Her name is carved into a pole with the others who have gone on from that place before her, and that is her gravestone.

The elder gives her meager belongings to them, and most of them Raine gives back to be used by others in the city. Genis says nothing, knowing that this is his sister's way of dealing with the odd grief that accompanies their mother's death: she keeps it behind closed doors.

When they leave the day is bright and sunny, and before the sun sets they decide they'll stop in Luin for the night, because it's too hard to go farther today. They land and check into a room at the inn, and then they separate to each be alone with their thoughts. Raine finds herself standing by the fountain in the center of town. She avoids the place across the bridge behind her because her statue is there (she's supposed to study history, not be studied as a part of it), and the flow of the water somehow soothes her even in the face of her fear of it.

In her hand is one of the two belongings of her mother's that she has left. The other is the diary that she keeps with her in her bag; Genis is probably paging through it right now. She herself holds the doll that her mother has called "Raine" for all these years. It looks blankly up at her, and she looks away, toward the water again.

There's part of her, the part that thinks her hoping is just as delusional as seeing any life in the doll in her hand, that wants to take the thing and hurl it into the fountain, breaking the water's calm, constant, perfect flow into a hundred angry ripples of sorrow and regret. Or better, into Lake Sinoa behind her, where the thing can never be found again once the waters bear it away.

But the other part of her, the part that dares to hope and believes that even the least likely of people can begin to change over time, knows that it too will drown the moment the doll hits the water.

She stands there for a long moment, listening to the water, gazing at her mother's doll and feeling the tears prick at the backs of her eyes.

And Raine forgives her.

It isn't a split-second decision, because forgiveness is a process and this has been a long one, but this is the final nail in the coffin of her bitterness. The pain is still there, and she doubts it will ever leave her entirely, but she knows she has finally forgiven, and that is enough for her.

Gradually, she becomes aware of a sound, and she looks up to see a child crying across the square, refusing to be comforted by her mother's reassuring noises. Raine glances down at the doll in her hand, then walks around the fountain and kneels down next to the child so that she is no taller than the girl.

"Here."

Wide-eyed, the girl takes the doll from Raine's outstretched arms, sniffling as she hugs it close to her body.

"You can keep it."

Raine stands then, raises her hand and smiles slightly in response to the mother's heartfelt thanks, and quietly walks away, leaving the doll clutched tightly in the child's arms.

Genis looks up from the pages of the book when she opens the door to their room in the inn and closes it gently behind her. He glances at her hands, and finding them empty, meets her gaze questioningly.

"I gave it away. To someone who needs it more than we do."

His eyes search hers, and then he smiles and nods once, understanding. Raine crosses the room and gathers him into her arms, and he embraces her tightly in return. Burying her face into the top of his head, she finally lets the tears fall, feeling her brother's soft silver hair, just like hers, just like their mother's, catch them and wipe them away.


End file.
